


In the snow

by theosymphany



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Lockdown Fic, M/M, Slice of Life, Walking in the snow
Language: Ελληνικά
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:47:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theosymphany/pseuds/theosymphany
Summary: A short walk after fresh snow unveils more about Piers' past than he intended.
Relationships: Piers Nivans/Chris Redfield
Comments: 5
Kudos: 7





	In the snow

“Let’s go for a walk, Chris.”  
“Was thinking you’d never ask! Hah, and there it is, the scramble of doggy paws at the magic word. Walkies!”  
Piers tucked his scarf in and zipped his jacket up, checking that his gloves are already waiting in the pockets.  
“You should get a thicker jacket.” He said, looking Chris up and down with a slight furrow in his brows.  
“I’d be right.” Chris shrugged.  
“What if I needed an extra jacket?” Piers said, jokingly as he hooked an arm on Chris’s elbow.  
“Then you’ll just have to get closer.” Piers laughed as the thick arm squeezed around his.

Fresh snow had fallen, and the air was clean and sharp. Everything was hidden by a thick, white blanket, flat and pristine.  
“Isn't it beautiful?” Piers asked, taking in the view.  
“Yeah.” Chris took a deep breath. “The best.”  
“Almost a pity to ruin it.” Piers said, tapping the toe of his boot right on the edge where snow had fallen under the eaves.  
“We only live once.” Chris said.

He knelt and fitted the lead to Ruff, and with a little shiver to shake off the cold, they’re off.

They walked in quiet, each step rewarded with the soft crackle of tiny grains of crystals beneath their feet. Piers trod carefully, being a little more deliberate than usual about how he planted each step, while Chris seemed to pay no such regard whether he kicked the occasional clump of snow or dragged his feet.

The air was still, with an inaudible hum. The kind that, without the crunch underfoot, made you wonder if your ears still actually worked.

The trio continued without a word. A long time ago Piers would be thinking of conversation starters in his head, wondering whether he should say anything at all, being somewhat awkward in Chris’ staid expression. Was Chris bored? Did he want to chat? Was he moody?  
Nowadays, he’s more used to it. Chris is just being present. He is here. Beside him. And he’ll chat if he wants, and respond if he wants. Sometimes he’ll be quiet for 10 minutes and then come out with an awful corny dad joke he’s been crafting in his head the entire time. Other times he was silent out of respect for his partner.

Because apparently Piers gave the air of the cold, aloof sniper type who observes and wait. Who’d have thought?

“Is someone following us?” Chris said, after watching Piers peer behind his shoulder a few times.  
“I don’t think so.” Piers said, focusing on his hearing, “at least, I don’t hear anything, and neither did Ruff.”  
“But you kept looking over your shoulder?” Chris said, twinning his fingers with Piers, even through their thick gloves.  
“Oh that, it’s kinda… embarrassing.” Piers offered nothing more and kept walking.

Now Chris is the one who kept turning his head.  
“See anything?” Piers offered with a smile.  
Chris shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

“I’m looking at our footprints.”

Chris stopped and turned around, looking with fresh eyes the two tracks through the snow leading to where they stood. Two sets of boot prints. One larger, his own, heavy, and at times messy at the toe or heel. The other was Piers. Lighter, pristine, with his sole printed clearly on every step. Then there’s Ruff’s little prints, darting here and there, adding curiosity and life to the otherwise still record of a slice of history.  
“Hmm.” He wondered to himself. “Because…”  
“Because nothing.” Piers shrugged. “It’s like stamping on snow. It’s kinda fun.”

Chris blinked but wasn’t letting it slide. It was a cop out and he vaguely knew it. Of the things Piers had on his mind. A lot of it was about him. Made him a bit uncomfortable at times, but he tells himself it’s nice to be loved and in someone’s thoughts. The rest of it was about, well, them.

“It’s about us.” He declared suddenly, squeezing Piers’ hand.  
“All the moments in our lives, the paths we have crossed, to be here, holding hands, on the journey… uh, alongside each other.”  
“Leaving our own mark… together.” He added, trying to think quickly while on a roll. He could see Piers was trying not to smile.

“Something like that.” He said. “Told you it’s embarrassing. And so damned cheesy.”  
“It’s like that footprints poem your mum used to have on her fridge magnet?”  
“OK, now that’s full on cringe.” Piers deflected, watching Ruff circle around Chris’s legs.  
“I mean it’s how it works, we are journeying through life together. Thankfully there are two sets of prints, so I’m not having to carry you... Hell, I mean you’ve done your share of carrying me.”

They picked up their pace again, each footstep planted a little more firmly, more intentional, now that they are creating something together.  
“I’ve studied your prints a lot.” Piers said, after a while.  
“Tracking me like the silent stalker you are?”  
“A hunter’s gotta find his bear.”  
“Grrrrr…” Piers laughed, ducking round as Chris growled and reached out with both arms open, letting himself be caught and squeezed in a bear hug.

“Snow gives me mixed feelings.” He said, his head buried in Chris’s flannel shirt, feeling his heat, and staring at the small patch of chest hair poking above the collar.  
“I had this fantasy in Edonia that I’d recognise your footprints one day and there’ll you’ll be. I mean I took Snowy for crazy amounts of walks, and every time he goes off and wants to lead somewhere my heart skips a beat. I think I watched too many fairy tales growing up."  
“They taught that a prince have to work hard to get himself to the castle.” Chris smirked, rubbing his arm across Piers’s back gently.  
“Yeah well nobody told me you’d spent all that time a tavern getting drunk and wasted.”  
“It was bloody freezing outside! You wish me hiding out there like a hobo? Begging for scraps?”  
“I guess not.” Piers shook his head. “I mean it was nice you were safe and warm...”  
“Ain’t got much on my mind then.” Chris said. “Booze and warmth. And this random silhouette that randomly popped into my mind. To remind me I had some kind of past. That perhaps I'm not actually all alone out there.”

“You mean you didn’t pray crying on a bed that your prince charming would come and find you and kiss you better?”  
“Na, my fairy godmother did plenty on her own without me asking for it.” Chris grinned.  
“You’re terrible!” Piers looked up and pulled a face at Chris.  
“And you’re my saving grace.” He said, looking at the pink on Piers’ cheeks, whether they’re from the cold or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. Piers did like the sappy sentimental words, even if he’d never admit it. And he liked making Piers embarrassed, because he’d get this boyish grin, with his dimples set just right and cheeks flushed a little pink. That grin also reminds him when they play, and Piers would go down on him with that look… that maybe he was good enough to make him happy...  
“You’re being naughty.” Piers said.  
“Was not.” Chris snapped.  
“I knew it.” Piers shoved him lightly.

  
Chris sighed as the cold air hit him again. His body had betrayed him. Sometimes Piers still make him feel like a teenager. In all the right ways.  
“I can’t help it. Men’s emotional centers are linked to arousal.”  
“Speak for yourself big guy.”  
“Alright I’m sorry! We can go back to being sappy.” Chris said as Ruff picked up the pace and started pulling on his lead to keep walking.  
“It was not sappy. I was merely observing our tracks. In case someone followed us.” Piers huffed.  
“Yes, thank you for those snipey senses and keeping watch, Legolas.”

The German Shepard’s ear gave a little twitch at the name, but he padded along all the same.  
“Now I just need a little _lembas_ and a brooding ranger to make me happy.”  
“I thought Legolas liked some elf chick?”  
“Not in my version of the story. He ended up with a tall, dark, handsome veteran who’s rough around the edges but has a heart of gold and together they saved the world ten times over.”

They walked on, their steps a little messier, their laughter a little lighter, and behind them, a trail of boot prints and paw prints, clear and bold in the fairest, powdered snow.

A transient testament of love, companionship, and family.

**Author's Note:**

> One of my first fics was 'The Yuki's challenge'. Yuki meaning snow. Well, a good number of years later, I'm still writing, kinda fitting it's reflecting on snow.  
> Hopefully not my last fic either! We journey on. The Chris and Piers I write today have matured in their relationship and journey, with their thoughts and ideas about life, and understanding of each other. To me Nivanfield isn't a recurring sitcom drama where there's laughter and tears and revolving set but no lasting character development. These guys have lived through plenty of stuff, and they treasure what they have. Isn't great that we can have characters that grow up and journey with us through thick and thin? 
> 
> Take care wherever you are, stay toasty. Or frosty. Stay loved.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Legacy in the sand](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29858709) by [nimrod262](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimrod262/pseuds/nimrod262)




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